


The Re-Rebuilding of the Dark Brotherhood

by JesstheLes



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24671920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesstheLes/pseuds/JesstheLes
Summary: Torme Shallow-Sage went through a lot to get to where she was. Impersonating a chef and killing the emperor takes a lot out of a girl. The aftermath of The Best Assassination Ever™ is not as easy as she was hoping. Having a Jester scaring away all of your new recruits really isn’t all that helpful either.
Relationships: Brynjolf/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Cicero (Elder Scrolls)/Original Female Character(s), Cicero/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Cicero/Female Listener (Elder Scrolls), Cicero/Listener (Elder Scrolls)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	The Re-Rebuilding of the Dark Brotherhood

Torme Shallow-Sage has known from the beginning that re-reinstating the Dark Brotherhood would be a challenge. She knew that the recruitments needed would bring her strange places, but truthfully, she hadn’t expected a place this strange. 

She had been through countless Falmer caves, old dwemer cities, and vampire pits. She had fought off dragons, swarms of rieklings, and bandits. Never before had she imagined herself dressed in traditional orc-wear, dancing around a bonfire a giant would be jealous of. The face paint on her face itched, and not for the first time, she wondered what plant was used to make the dye. If it’s juniper, Nazir’s gonna slap me into the next era. Not to mention how loudly Babette would grumble at having to make the antidote paste for the fourth time this month…

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, Listener!” Called Yaren, the most recent recruit, from across the bonfire. He was being whisked around by half the orc tribe, his face also covered in the paint. 

“You try saying no to an entire tribe!” Torme yelled back. 

“What, because they’re just so gosh darn cute?!” Yaren disappeared into a mob of dancing and singing orcs as the Listener laughed. Yaren would be a good addition to the family. They didn’t have anyone that specialized solely on the bow, and his quick wit would keep good spirits around the sanctuary. 

The chanting grew louder as the crowd tightened in on the fire. Children ran around laughing, and adults smiled fondly at them. Every one of them was brandishing some sort of weapon, makeshift or not. Torme could have sworn she saw a child with a shiv. It kind of reminded her of Babette. Ah, orcs. 

It looked like one particularly scrawny orc was crowd surfing- wait. Crowd surfing very close to the fire. If someone dropped him… and he was dropped. 

Into the fire. 

On purpose. 

Ah, orcs. 

After most of the tribe was too drunk to stand (or dead), Yaren and Torme thanked the orc Chieftess and took their leave. 

When they arrived at the black door after three days of travel from the Rift, Torme decided it was a good time to brief Yaren on what he would find inside. 

“Okay, so we have Babette, a vampiric child who is actually a shit ton older than you and I combined,” Torme huffed out a laugh. “She’s our resident alchemist, so don’t piss her off.

“Nazir is our cook, and he is better than anyone I know, and I once killed and impersonated the Gourmet,”

“You’re joking,” Yaren stared at Torme with an open mouth. 

“Who do you think killed the emperor, Yaren,” Torme stated matter-of-factly. 

She continued on, pretending to not see Yaren’s disbelief. “The only person I really need to warn you of is Cicero. He is the Keeper of the Night Mother. If you insult me, he might kill you,” Torme paused. “Also, he’s dressed as a jester.” 

Without a glance at Yaren’s face, she turned to the black door. “I ask only for entry.” She says to the door. 

“What is life’s greatest pleasure?” When the door spoke, Yaren jumped. 

“Fuckin hell. Stop changing it on me, you bozos!” Torme kicked the door. 

“Welcome Home, listener.” 

“I hate that door,” Torme pouted. She gestured to Yaren, beckoning him onward.


End file.
